


Field Work

by IsisKitsune



Series: Twilight is for Sookers [29]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Morbius: The Living Vampire, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Claire Temple is So Done, Don't Try This At Home, Gen, Hurt Peter, Injury, Medical Procedures, Mind Control, Superhero Babysitter Claire Temple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-02 08:15:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18807259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsisKitsune/pseuds/IsisKitsune
Summary: Average day at work, few ups, few downs, all expected in the ER... then Morbie makes it home. It officially got worse





	Field Work

Claire snorted a laugh as Michael walked up, “You've had a day.”

Michael just chuckled back, “That obvious?”

“Well unless there was blood thinners involved, that much splatter is from a scalp injury.”

“Probably shoulda changed before I came up here,” Michael grumbled, blinking at Claire, “You don't smoke.”

“Some days- ya need something to take the edge off,” she blew a small bellow of smoke.

“I hear that.” Michael blinked at the cigarette handed toward him. “Grandmother, her youngest granddaughter found her. Cracker her skull on the kitchen floor, wanting to make treats for their visit.”

“She make it?”

“Not long after getting here. Seizures, she didn't recover and kept flat lining.”

“I'll admit, you're taking this well. Most need more than 'a minute'.”

“You know my story, death and me... we're old friends. It's the families that just, get under your skin. Her youngest was 17.” Michael shrugged.

“You tried your thing didn't you? That's why you needed fresh air.”

“Apparently not even sever suggestion can level out your heart or stop your brain from seizing, but hey, I had to try.”

“You get sent home?”

“They offered, it's why I'm out here, told them I'm staying, needed a minute to get changed and they said take an early break.”

“You're right, ya shoulda changed before you came up here,” Claire smirked and nudged his shoulder.

Michael smirked as he heard someone tumble onto the roof behind them, “Hey Red, what's up?”

“Smelled blood.”

Michael rolled his eyes, “Get a snoot full, cause I was just heading in to change.”

“Tony's still pissed about the whole, wings thing isn't he?”

Michael shrugged, “How would I know?”

“Because I tried to get over to the Penthouse the other day and Jarvis locked me out.”

Michael blushed as he scratched at his nose, “What time was that?”

“About 4 or so, why?”

“Morning or night,” Daredevil was smirking while Michael just got redder.

“Night.”

“Yeah, that wasn't Tony, we don't exactly have a doorknob for the Penthouse so, yeah. Jarvis turns away any visitors, accessed or not.”

“I thought your scent changed.”

“Do I really need to tell you how creepy or rude that is? I mean, I don't go telling people they smell delicious, now do I?”

He got a laughing response, “And that is why Foggy can't wait for you to be his drinking buddy.”

Michael and Daredevil's head tilted toward the access door, “Shoo.”

Claire smirked as Daredevil took a running leap before it could open. “You should go change.”

“Yeah I should, I'll see you in the ER.”

-

Michael glared when he saw Peter wince as he came out of his room, “Why do you have a chunk of metal in your side?”

Peter's automatic response of 'dumb and clueless' was short lived when a hand flail caused stabbing pain up his side, “Fuck. Okay, yeah there's something still in my side.”

“Don't fucking move,” Michael screeched as he rushed over to carefully lift his shirt, “If you move left or right you'll hit your liver and then we really are going to the hospital. How long since this happened?”

“Long enough to stop bleeding? Unless I move.”

“Goddamnit Parker.” Michael glared at the entry wound, trying to figure out exactly how they can get the, bladed thing out? Whatever it was it was pointed like a fucking spear head or something. “What did you get hit with?”

“Wouldn't believe me if I told you,” Peter wheezed at the pain. “Hard to breath, hurts too much.”

“What was it?”

“This freaking weirdo straight outa the 80's just showed up, yellow spandex and all. Called himself Kraven or something.”

“How long has this been in here?”

“Longer than it should,” was the only offer he got when he couldn't figure out which of the fucking scars was the entry point. “I'm not going to like this am I?”

“Goddamnit Parker I'm not prepared for fucking surgery in my goddamn kitchen!”

“Ya know, way back when- when I use to call you Spock? Totally got it wrong. Definitely McCoy...”

Peter was giving a wince of a smirk. “We move your torso left or right, you end up with a fun trip to the goddamn ICU, how do you suggest we fix this?”

“Painkillers and hope your mojo works?”

“Front or back?”

“Front,” Peter winced as he tapped the area he remembered the spear hitting. “About there.”

“It's... deeper than that.”

“You're the doctor.”

“I'm not even technically pre-med yet you asshole!”

“Who are you calling?”

“Claire,” Michael glared, “And she's gonna be pissed at you about the over time.”

“Fuck, I'll make brownies next time!”

Michael grumbled as he explained the situation over the phone as best he could. “Any chance you can get a hold of something stronger than pain relievers?”

“You know, Matt- Matt I expect this from, but you?”

“Look, Claire, I'm honestly afraid to get him in a fucking ambulance right now much less having him swing his sorry ass anywhere... It's rubbing against his liver, he twists and he's got massive and quick internal bleeding. And then he'd still have to explain how the hell it got in there in the first place.”

Claire let out a sigh, “I... I'm on my way. Do you have anything on site?”

“Forceps, antiseptics, gauze, sutures, like minor wound care shit, not full on surgical gear.”

“Ya got more than minor there, kid, but I'm on my way with the rest.”

“Claire, I owe you.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“You owe Claire so fucking much for this, she just got off a fucking 14 hour hell shift.”

Peter tried to slouch, Michael instantly had his shoulders and carefully helped him settle when he could hear the damn thing shifting, “I'm sorry, I, I don't even know how the thing snapped off. It just hit me and I thought he'd missed for a second or it was a blunted tip when it just, fell off while I was swinging.”

Michael glared as he ended up texting Ned, warning about coming back to the Penthouse knowing he'd had a date that night. -blame Parker, no guests tonight, might want to keep away-

-goddamnit!-

Peter shifted, “Phone's buzzing.”

“I hear it, but you ain't moving, you understand?”

“Could be important.”

“Probably just Ned bitching you out about cock blocking him.”

“Not my fault,” Peter whined.

It took Michael several minutes of hearing the phone buzzing from Peter's open door to realize, “Wait, why are you so busy?”

“Huh?”

“You're, you're busy,” Michael started, carefully, patting him down.

“Busy how?”

“Buzz, electronic, watch? Um fucking electronic key ring, something?”

“Huh?”

Michael leaned over and listened, checking his pockets near where the noise sounded loudest before he froze when he realized it wasn't outside him. “Shit... Fuck,” Michael grabbed his phone and called Claire hoping she can hurry it up. “Parker we're moving to my room, now.”

“Huh, ow ow ow, what's wrong?”

“Just, Jarvis safe room mode, let Claire up when she gets here.”

“Of course, sir.”

“What's wrong?”

“It wasn't intent to cause harm or kill it's target, it was intended to fucking track it. That's why the head snapped off so easily. You're busy because you have the tracking inside you.”

Peter tensed up, “Shit, I gotta get away from here. I can't, I can't stay here.”

“You stay and we can get it out, I'll be the decoy, get it as far away as possible.”

“If it goes dark, Morbie if it goes dark he'll know something's up.”

“Subways Parker, no tracker is good enough to keep the signal in the old tunnels, at least one small enough to barely catch my ears.”

“But-”

“Why do you think dad wanted This Penthouse?”

It took him a few minutes before he remembered how close the station was from the place, how old the station was. “The tunnels.”

“Yep, he's gonna head down not up when that tracker goes dark, by then I can get it the fuck away from here.”

Michael's door cracked open, “Anyone here?”

“Yeah, we're in here.”

“I can't work without lights.”

“Shit, Jarvis, allow lights?”

“Yes, sir,” was called from the other room before Michael winced against the brightness.

“Please tell me you can get this out?”

“I don't see any wounds?”

“That's the problem, Parker heals cuts quickly.”

“Okay so, we have to open up an access point.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, where is this thing?”

Michael held her fingers over the area, “Don't press down, you should be able to angle it in but be careful about pressure.”

“How big is this thing?” Michael spread her fingers until it was the size of it, “Shit, okay, please tell me drugs work on you?”

“I burn them off quick because of my metabolism, but once you get it open it can't be worse than it already is.”

“Famous last words, can you do your trick,” Michael shook his head, shrugging. “Can you try?”

“He's, very, annoyingly, strong willed. I can't put him under.”

“Okay, I've got... I've got Morphine and a local, think we can handle it?”

“Dope him, I should be able to help influence him then.”

“Does normal dosing work?” Claire was worried when the boys looked at each other, “I'll double it.”

“Might want to.”

Michael waited, noticing when the morphine took effect, “Rest, no pain, just rest.”

“I, I feel you trying but-”

“Let me in Parker, come on. Rest, no pain, just rest.”

Peter's eyes started going hazy, his body twitching when Claire pressed another needle against the site, “Sorry, just the local.”

“Think, think it might be working.”

Michael repeated it until his eyes finally drooped, he wasn't out but he didn't respond to the hard pinch Claire did to his leg, “Okay, that's as good as it's going to get. Go on.”

“I take it back, you're worse than Matt,” Claire glared as she made the cut. “Get the gauze and keep the field clear.”

“On it.”

 

 


End file.
